Falling through the double doors, I call out, ‘Is there a police officer here?’ A sob catches in my throat and I have to work hard to swallow it back down, not wanting to lose it in front of the volunteers.

‘Oh gosh, you need to sit down, here, come this way.’ The mousy woman from the PTA appears by my side, her hand grabbing at my forearm and tugging me towards a chair. ‘Let me help you.’

‘I don’t need to sit down.’ I shake myself free impatiently, trying to see over the tops of people’s heads to catch a glimpse of DI Dove, or perhaps Dominic.

‘Anna? There you are.’ Jess appears from the throng of people that have edged their way towards me. ‘I waited for you and you never came . . . look at the state of you. Oh God, you’re bleeding!’ She grasps my hand tightly. ‘What happened?’

I glance down at the mud that cakes my shoes and splatters up the legs of my jeans. A thin trickle of blood stains my fingertips where I caught myself on the mesh, and there is a long rip in the arm of my jacket from the fencing. I can feel the sweat break out over my skin again. ‘A police officer, Jess. Are there any still here or are they all doing the door-to-door?’

‘I’m here,’ a voice says behind me, and I turn to see DI Dove.

‘Oh, thank God.’ I resist the urge to throw myself on him in relief. ‘I found something, out there on the other side of the woods.’

‘OK,’ Dove pulls me to one side, away from prying eyes and straining ears. ‘What did you find? Tell me.’

‘At the edge of the woods – where it meets Briars Meadow – the fencing has been cut. There are drag marks . . . I crawled through it, and they’re there . . .’

‘Whoa, not so fast.’ DI Dove waves his hand up and down in a gesture designed to slow me. ‘Who is there?’

‘The travellers,’ I say, my breathing finally calming. ‘There are eight or nine caravans, all parked in the field, in the usual spot. There are drag marks, like feet, leading to the cut in the fence and then the grass is all beaten down as though someone has walked through there. But that’s not it. I saw her.’

‘You saw her? Who? Laurel?’ A spark gleams in his eye and I see why he is a detective – he loves the thrill of the chase.